A Switch Has Been Flicked
by connorxrisa897
Summary: Set during the book, a two-shot regarding Connor and Risa's thoughts when they've realized their feelings towards the other have changed.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This is just a little two-shot story that I got the idea for while brushing my teeth yesterday morning. I was inspired by a line in the book in which Risa realizes that she sees Connor as a hero. Please enjoy, and reviews are always appreciated! :-) Also, who's excited for Unwholly? AUGUST 28TH, BABY! **

**Disclaimer: If you think I'm Neal Shusterman, please go have your head examined. I don't own the characters, the setting, anything. All I own is this bit of writing. **

Risa's POV

The hot Arizona sun blazes down on me as I walk away from the large communal meeting area where we were all gathered a few minutes previously. This place, the Graveyard, for souls and planes alike, seems like it'll be tough, but I could use some order in my life right now. The last few weeks have been a frightening blur of fear and confusion, sweat and tears, friendships tested and heartaches initiated. Like last night.

The irony of it was that it was Christmas Eve. The preparation of a joy-filled holiday of lights, family, and miracles. Most American teenagers were probably getting dragged around by painfully cheery, middle-aged parents, whole families freezing their butts off from caroling off-key to neighbors already in debt from holiday shopping. Almost everyone probably had a cold, but microwave hot chocolate would warm everyone up, and make them forget about their illness and stress. Yet even through the problems of the holiday season, there was supposed to be a certain homey air to it all. That's the kind of thing I spent my childhood fantasizing about. Pondering what gifts I would receive from my awesome adoptive parents when they would take me home with them. However, life slapped my dreams pretty hard in the face. No one adopts anymore, and the idea of me finding someone to raise happy, squealing children in Santa hats with me has seemed ridiculous. So while teens everywhere were pretending not to love their parents, I was almost getting raped in a scuzzy warehouse bathroom. Great.

It's not the attempted sexual assault thing that bothered me the most, though. (Although that in and of itself was pretty traumatizing.) It was more that Connor didn't try harder to protect me. God. Just thinking that makes me want to punch myself. It's not that I can't take care of myself, I've stayed clean and out of trouble for fifteen years. Connor busted in, and that was enough to stop Roland from doing whatever he pleased to a semi-helpless me. In that situation, I needed a little help. Roland's a huge and ruthless guy. Most people, no matter how street smart, wouldn't have a chance against him.

But what Connor said about not taking Roland's bait to lure him into a fight confuses me, because, well, for once, he's _right. _Normally I'm the one in the pair that actually thinks things through, makes the good decisions, uses her logic and wits. He made the right call, I certainly wouldn't want him getting hurt, but something about that whole scene just seemed to demand some sort of more climactic conflict. I just thought that Connor, my rescuer, my so-called "hero", wouldn't be cowardly in the face of danger if it meant protecting me. We've been through so much together recently, and I feel like we've become close. We confide in each other, help each other out, keep the other one safe, and stay with them when they're having a difficult time.

That boy confuses me, there's no doubt. I know for a fact that he could quite easily be dangerous. He's passionately irrational, never makes good choices, and his brain seems to fry in stressful moments. He can be violent, but only to people that piss him off first. He seems to have broken most every law, and there's the whole matter of that girl he knew from back home. He cared about her a lot, I can tell, so I suppose he's "taken", whatever that's supposed to mean. Curse shallow, meaningless teenage girl language… She was probably pretty if he liked her face well enough to try to graffiti it into a concrete floor. Connor does strike me as a bit of a ladies' man, and if he's one of those types, makeup and a surgically skinny nose is all he'd like.

On the other hand, something about him is just… intriguing. How he rescued the unloved baby against all self-preservation. Even through he knew it would probably get us caught, he took that baby to save her from a miserable life. Connor finally looked at peace when he held her in his arms, as if feeling some sort of fatherly love buried deep inside him. The way he kidnapped that little rat Lev, just to keep him from being unwound. When I had just given Didi to that teacher and was so upset, he saw my pain, and tried his hardest to comfort me, even if that meant "keeping me warm." (AKA using any excuse to put his arm around me.) He had tears in his eyes after writing the letter to his loved one. I can tell that he tries to look tough, tries to be the bad boy in order to stay safe. It's a fairly transparent front when you really examine it; when you know him like I do. No matter how many fights he gets into, I know that his soul is gentle and kind. He's still finding his way in the world, but he _is _a good person. Really.

But after my little hero realization last night, I feel like some switch inside me has been flicked. Yesterday, I saw Connor Lassiter as a friend, or maybe a partner in crime. But now, I have no idea. Suddenly, I feel shy around him. Suddenly, I've become fixated with those sweet little freckles across his nose and cheeks, and I stare at his soft, floppy hair and think how I want to run my fingers through it. I've seen the occasional passing guy as attractive, I mean, I'm a heterosexual teenage girl. But this seems different somehow. I feel this warm, fluttery feeling when I think about him, and I know that I always want to be around him and keep him safe.

Just as I'm pondering all of this, a little while in front of me, I see him walking with a group of guys who seem _very _happy to be out of the crates. They're all being idiots, sprinting and jumping and punching each other for reasons I'm not even sure they understand. Connor stops in the middle of the mob, though, and waves to me.

"Hey, Risa!" he calls.

"Hi, Connor," I say back, blushing slightly. He has a really nice smile.

What is up with me? I've never been this ditzy girl. I've never been the type to go all stupid and blushy over some guy. But maybe this isn't necessarily a bad thing. Connor needs someone to keep him out of trouble, keep his head on straight. And, I mean, he's my friend, and I'm pretty sure it's okay to feel this way about him, even if a relationship between us would never work. In this crazy world, the chances of any teenage romance surviving though legal adulthood are zero and none. However, I can't stop it when my imagination starts to wander.

All of a sudden, I see countless scenes of us together. I can picture us spending all hours of the night staying up talking about life, holding hands in front of our friends, us kissing passionately in the rain. I can even see the two of us standing under a rose-covered altar. Chasing our little children around, trying to round them up to go inside.

Stop it, Risa. This kind of thing isn't good for you. You're getting your hopes up. Life gives you dreams, then laughs cruelly in the corner as you're disappointed when they're dashed. Don't go moony now. He probably doesn't even like you back like that…


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: So, here is the second chapter, this time from Connor's point of view. I **_**am **_**a girl, and I don't write as guys very often, so forgive me if it's a little off. Everlasting gratitude to my solitary reviewer, my best friend, the lovely and wonderful iloverueforever. Please enjoy, and reviews are ever so appreciated! **

**Disclaimer: Do you **_**really **_**think I own Unwind? If I did, right now I would be in Arizona, having a wild teenage dance party with Connor and Risa. And obviously, you can't write/publish fanfiction from a wild teenage dance party in the future. **

Connor's POV

It's about twelve thirty in the afternoon, and the mechanical team's just taken a break from the long day's work. Right now, we're all assembled to work on a particularly complicated broken stovetop that has decided to spew thick black smoke every time we mess with the gears. This wasn't making the cooks' jobs any easier, so they called _us _in. We haven't made any progress so far, but we've all gotten really sweaty and gross. That, and I'm starving. So, all I want to do is sit down, eat my lunch, and try desperately to cool down, which the scorching Southwestern sun usually makes impossible. But as I begin to tuck into my sandwich, listening to the guys on my team yell and laugh and talk about the girls here at the Graveyard. Right now, they're discussing the infamous Demandment Number Eight, and how they could possibly weasel around it to get the chicks they want. Benjamin, a greasy kid who carries our stuff around turns to me, and asks,

"Hey Connor, any girls here you've got your eye on?"

I shake my head and grunt casually, knowing how normal this kind of banter is with the guys.

"I don't believe it!" That would be Jesse, another guy, who slugs me good-naturedly in the arm. "What about that med jet girl you showed up with, Risa? She's pretty hot, man. Seems cool. I heard you two were an item."

"Nah," I deny, brushing it off. "We're just friends. She only stuck with me on the run because I kept getting us into situations with the cops and stuff, and she was nice enough to keep me out of trouble."

"Sure," he says sarcastically. "You just keep telling yourself that."

The lunchtime chatter resumes as usual, but my mind's not on it. What Jesse said about Risa has given my brain something to run with. Now that I think about it, I remember there was a reason she almost dislocated my shoulder in the forest that one time. I had touched her hair because I thought she was pretty. When she looked so sad about giving up Didi, I had cuddled with her in the ice cream truck not only to keep her warm, but because it was the only way I could think to comfort her. I just hated it when she looked so broken. Now that I think about it, she's a saint to have put up with me this entire time, when my brain kept frying and I only made things that much more difficult for her. Risa's so strong and self-reliant, and God knows she's a whole lot smarter than me. I don't know why she wouldn't have taken off while she could've, but I wouldn't be here if she had. She's saved me so many times over, I would've been in little medical shreds months ago. Even if she doesn't always seem to like me, she's pretty awesome. Plus, Jesse was right. She _is _hot. I don't really know what comes over me just then, but I get up from my seat and declare,

"I'm gonna go see Risa. Catch you guys later."

There's a chorus of whistles and laughs behind me, as well as a few "Good luck, Lassiter!"s and "Don't have too much fun!"s. Unfazed, I keep determinedly striding on my way, towards the medical jet, not having any clue what exactly I'm doing.

Finally, I see the small, pristine 747 come into view, and I jog towards it. Only when I'm right in front of the doorway do I stop to realize how _stupid _what I'm doing is. If I just show up here without any explanation, Risa's going to know that something's up. We don't get to see each other very often, but because of the Admiral's strict policies, we don't often seek the other one out. If I show up, probably stuttering and staring, she'll either take me to have my head examined, or she'll catch on and think that I'm a total womanizing jerkwad who doesn't care about our friendship. Two options that I'd rather not go through. So, I take the stupid, cliched, teen rom-com route. Clutching my arm, pretending to grimace in pain, I walk through that door.

The medical jet is fairly empty at this time of day, I guess it's not hot enough outside for any major heatstroke to occur. And from what little Risa's told me about work here, that's about 75% of what they treat. I see her in the back, tending to a skinny, scowling little kid I recognize from my few days on trash duty. Risa's huddled over the guy's ankle, applying some sort of medical tape to it, completely oblivious to me and my failed "injury". A few other people bustle around, but I guess as long as I'm not puking or profusely bleeding, I'm not a priority. She looks comfortable, and experienced. I never would have thought of her as a doctor, but she seems really good at it. Her khaki Graveyard fatigues bag on her skinny frame, but they hug her hips and bustline, not exactly helping with my staring problem. The boy she's treating finally gets the okay, stands up painfully, and hobbles away. Risa finally takes notice of me as she's making sure he doesn't sprain his other ankle.

"Oh, hi Connor," she says. "What's up?"

"Nothing much," I say, distracted by how her sparkling green eyes catch the light streaming through a window. "What about you?"

"Business as usual," she laughs. "Kids here can't seem to go a day without hurting themselves. I'm here to help them recover. You doing anything interesting with the mechanics?"

"No. Unless you count screwy stovetops as interesting."

She smiles at that, and it's a beautiful smile. Risa's so serious, you would't think she'd have it in her. But she does have that sweet of a smile, and I only wish I could make it happen more often.

"So, are you injured?" she asks, looking at my arm with a mixture of confusion and restrained giggles.

"Uh, my arm hurt."

"Your arm hurt."

"Yeah…but it feels better now, so I guess I should just be going. Uh, bye!" With that, I awkwardly shuffle off, hoping I haven't been _too _obvious. I know my feelings aren't mutual, but I move slowly enough to hear her mutter to herself,

"Boys. Even the sweet, adorable ones are idiots."

Say what?

**The end. **


End file.
